The gash is a result of my son’s mischief. He is occassionally, terribly, but impressively bad. Yesterday, he started throwing a temper tantrum the moment I picked him up at kindergarten. He wanted to go to an adventure playground where we’d all had such a lovely time on Sunday. It was impossible for many good reasons, but he just could not listen, could not think. He was in a state I can remember from my own childhood. He wanted to stop crying, but he couldn’t catch his breath long enough to take control of the sobbing. It upset his sister too, and so they cried together all the way home.

The moment we walked through the door, little boy took off his shoes and coat and went into his room. I thought he was being sensible and putting himself to bed (it has happened). I took my boots off, got the baby settled and washed my hands. Then, I got my son a cup of water and prepared to talk it out. It must have taken 5 minutes.
He was in his room, just not visible. He was in the top of the wardrobe where we keep his videos and DVDs. It is about 2 meters (a little over six feet) off the ground. I am not sure how he gets up there, but it has happened before.

I was carrying the water in one hand and trying to open the cupboard door with the other to get him down, when the sliding door popped off its track and hit me in the head. The world went gray for a split-second and I told myself not to go with it, not to pass out and it worked. I got control of my body.

“You need to go to the doctor,” my son said from his perch in the upper shelves of the wardrobe. I lifted him down and saw the wet spots on the carpet from dropping the cup of water. We sat on the couch together and both kids stroked me and my “oh oh!” Not surprisingly, I had a horrible headache.

“I never want you to climb up into that cupboard again,” I told my little boy.

“No mummy, never, never, never,” he said.

I know I have a head injury, but I really do believe him.

Post from: Babylune